


Like Mother Like Son

by rudbeckia



Series: Kylux Advent 2020 [11]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Snowball Fight, benarmie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Ben’s sleeping late. Armie wakes him up with a surprise. Acoldsurprise.Kylux Advent Calendar Day 26: Snowball fight
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo
Series: Kylux Advent 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2039985
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17
Collections: Kylux Advent Calendar 2020





	Like Mother Like Son

Ben wakes up with all the enthusiasm of a teenager, which is to say that by the time his nineteen year old brain is ready to contemplate consciousness proper, it is almost noon. The room is strangely bright for the darkest depths of winter. Groaning slightly at the effort and shivering at the loss of his blankets, he hauls himself up, twitches the curtain open and cranes his neck to look out the window. There is a blanket of white that reflects the low slanting sunlight and sparkles when he moves back and forwards to see more. 

He whips his head around at a commotion by the bedroom door.  
“Get up!”  
It’s Armitage, all red hair and pink cheeks. Ben laughs. “Make me.”

It’s more of an invitation than a dare. Armie launches himself at Ben. But instead of the warm tussle ending in kisses (and, Ben hopes, a sly grope that might develop into something more), Ben yells in shock at the explosion of cold on his bed-warm belly.

“FUCKMETHAT’SFREEZING!”

Armie laughs and holds up his left hand which was empty but is now clutching another perfectly spherical ball of sparkling white.

“ARMIE YOU JERK!”

Ben darts out of bed, but not fast enough. Armie’s aim is deadly and cold thumps him in the chest. Ben advances, hands out, remembering only at the last instant that he’s buck naked and in Armie’s ma’s cottage not at home in their student apartment. “You’ll pay for this,” he promises, beginning to laugh despite himself. 

“In that case,” Armie says with a devilish glint in his eyes, “I‘ll have my money’s worth.”

Surely he can only have two snowballs. He only has two hands, Ben reasons right before another snowball hits him hard on the arse as he turns to find some clothes. He yelps and this time he can hear someone else sniggering besides Armie.

“Is he up now?” Aoife’s voice calls.

Ben turns and points, barely covered by a borrowed bathrobe. “Oh my god, Armie, I can’t believe you got your ma to help you. The sheets are wet. And the carpet. You made a mess!”

Armie hefts one more snowball as if testing its weight. “Get ma to help?” he says with a gleeful laugh. “It was her idea!” 

With that, Armie launches the last snowball. Ready this time, Ben catches it, yells, and runs after Armie, who screeches in alarm and laughs, pelting downstairs and out of the house. Ben follows, catches up, and stuffs the snowball down Armie’s shirt, rubbing to break it up.

The snow is deep and soft enough that when Ben pushes Armie over and rolls him in it, he’s unhurt and delirious with laughter. Armie trips him and scrubs a handful of fresh snow in Ben’s face.

Aoife watches and waits. Soon her boys are all snowballed out, breathing hard and giggling intermittently. She watches as they get up, equally helping and hindering each other, threatening one last snowball each then hugging and kissing and brushing their wet clothes down as they head for the warmth of the kitchen. 

Aoife is ready. She has towels and hot coffee and croissants in the oven for now and—for when they are dry and warm and feeling safe—two more snowballs stashed in the freezer.


End file.
